


Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

by Robespierre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Musicals, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robespierre/pseuds/Robespierre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dumbledore suggested that Remus see a popular Muggle musical.  Neither man could have imagined how deeply it would affect Remus or what other surprises the night had in store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

**Author's Note:**

> I just found this fic on a disk shoved into a bottom desk drawer - it's at least five years old. The lovely XTina asked for RLSB and Phantom of the Opera. I did my best.

**Summer 1993**

 

Remus Lupin was silently cursing Albus Dumbledore.  Knowing of Remus’ “fondness for Muggle music,” Dumbledore had recommended that Remus see the Muggle musical _The Phantom of the Opera_.  Remus had seen posters advertising the show all throughout Muggle London for the last seven years and while he did enjoy Muggle music, particularly jazz, he had never had any interest in seeing the show.  However, Dumbledore had raved so much about the show that Remus felt obligated to attend a performance.  At worst, he figured, it would be a waste of a few hours.  At best, he might even enjoy it.

Dumbledore had also strongly suggested that Remus take a date.  Most people would wonder about the motivation behind Dumbledore’s sudden interest in Remus’ personal life, but Remus understood what Dumbledore was trying to do:  bring him back to life.  After all, the Defense Against the Dark Arts students at Hogwarts deserved a real teacher, not the broken-down, sad husk of a man that he had been for the last twelve years. 

So Remus had agreed to going to the show, but not to bringing a date.  He had been alone for so long now that there was literally no one with whom he wanted to spend an extended period of time.  There had been no one since…

_Damn_.  _It’s been twelve years_.  _I must stop thinking about him_.

Seated in the very center of a row full of happy couples, Remus was miserable.  While the show did have its interesting moments (the bit with the chandelier was brilliant!), he found the love story unrealistic and infuriating.  Christine was a stupid, ungrateful girl.  Raoul was a stupid, foppish playboy who wouldn’t listen to his “fiancée.”  Scanning the sea of Muggle faces pointed toward the stage, Remus wondered how they could _possibly_ be enjoying themselves. 

Checking his pocket watch, he wondered how much more of his evening he was going to have to devote to this nonsense.  He fidgeted in his seat through the lavish masquerade ball (why did so many characters have to sing at the same time?) and worried at a hangnail on his left thumb during Raoul’s ridiculous plan to “capture” the Phantom.  He scanned the program for the name of the next song and snorted quietly.  “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again.”  So now Christine was pining for the Phantom?  When was this show going to start making sense?

However, he was surprised to see the mist onstage clear to reveal a cemetery scene.  So now Christine was singing to her dead father?  When was this show going to be _over_?  At least the introductory music to this song was simple.  Almost haunting, actually.  For the first time in more than an hour, Remus really listened. 

_You were once my one companion  
You were all that mattered_

This song is actually quite beautiful, he thought.

_Then my world was shattered_  
   
Worlds shattering.  I know all about that. 

_Wishing you were somehow here again_  
 _Wishing you were somehow near_  
 _Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed_  
 _Somehow you would be here_  
   
Remus sat up as if he’d brushed against a live wire.  He knew that feeling.  The desire to be with someone so much that each morning, before the dream faded, it felt as though that person were standing in the room with him.

_Wishing I could hear your voice again  
Knowing that I never would_

It’s true, he thought.  No one ever left Azkaban.  And there was no way that he could ever bring himself to visit the wizards’ prison. 

_Too many years_   
_Fighting back tears_   
_Why can't the past just die_

How was this happening?  How could this song affect him so?  He felt exposed, naked.  All alone in the middle of a crowd of thousands.  It was as though he, Remus, was standing on stage and revealing his innermost thoughts. 

_Try to forgive_   
_Teach me to live_   
_Give me the strength to try_

Tears streamed down Remus’ face as he fought his body’s natural instinct to begin sobbing.  Forgive.  Live.  Could he ever do those things?

_No more memories_   
_No more silent tears_   
_No more gazing across the wasted years_   
_Help me say goodbye_   
_Help me say goodbye_

Before the audience even had time to start applauding, Remus had begun to push his way through the audience members to his left in a blind panic, a desperate need to be out of the building.  Mumbling, “Sorry, sorry.  Terribly ill,” he burst into the lobby and ran as fast as he could out into the night. 

He ran.  Not to any particular destination, just away from the overwhelming flood of emotion.  He ran until his lungs were screaming and his muscles were failing, hoping that the pain in his body would diminish the pain in his heart. 

It was no use.  Twelve years of anguish and heartbreak washed over him, an unstoppable flood of feelings that forced him to his knees, struggling to breathe as he sobbed – great, uncontrollable sobs that shook his whole body.

_Sirius_. 

Remus had no idea how long he knelt, exposing his grief to the rest of the world.  When he finally came to his senses, his brain was working enough to process the fact that he was alone, crouched in front of a bench in the middle of a poorly-lit park.  His body so weak that he wasn’t sure he could move, he gathered all of his strength and Apparated directly into his flat.  He was aiming for his bed but instead ended up in his dusty, unused spare bedroom – a room he had entered only once in twelve years. 

_No, no – anywhere but here!_

The portrait of James and Lily, holding baby Harry.  A group shot of the Order of the Phoenix.  Remus at Hogwarts with James, Peter, and… _him_.  All of those eyes staring at him.  Smiling faces, never guessing what fate had in store for them.  Why had he never bothered to destroy these portraits?  Or at least put them into storage? 

For the second time that evening, grief brought Remus to his knees.  His chest ached as though he had been trampled by a herd of centaurs.  His eyes were so swollen, sore, and filled with tears that his vision was reduced to just blurry slits.  And his head – his head! – pounded as though he was either dying or going mad. 

Maybe it was madness.  It was the only explanation for his next action:  instead of running from the room as fast as he could, he shuffled over to the old, heavily-used chest in the corner of the room.  He plunged his hands into his Hogwarts memories, throwing sweaters, books, and bits of paper onto the floor in his desperate search for the small velvet bag he knew was hidden inside. 

Now wild with rage at his inability to find his most treasured possession, Remus picked up the heavy chest and spilled its contents onto the floor.  Bawling like a small child, he dug violently through the mess, heedless of the damage he was doing to his fingers as he encountered shards of broken glass.  Where was it?

Finally giving up his search, Remus fell onto the floor, not even bothering to catch himself.  His face took the brunt of the impact, his right cheek and nose taking most of the damage.  Blood gushed from his nose as he rolled onto his side, so miserable that he was ready to welcome death.

And then he saw it.  A beam of moonlight brought the room into sharp focus, even through the veil of tears and blood covering his face.  He spied the bag sitting on the room’s one small table, located below the window. 

_How?_

Remus had only entered this room once since that Halloween night that he lost everything.  He’d ignored the portraits propped against the walls and only stayed long enough to deposit that small, blue velvet bag into his Hogwarts chest.  He’d then turned, walked out, and quietly shut the door on everything he once held dear. 

_I know I put it in the trunk.  How did it get here?_

He crawled across the room’s threadbare carpet and hauled himself to a standing position, using the table for balance.  He was no longer crying; in fact, Remus’ body seemed to have shut down.  It was as if the world had stopped spinning.  His breath caught in his throat, his head stopped pounding, and the ache in chest disappeared as his entire being was focused on that small bag.

He pulled open the drawstring with shaking figures and gently upended the bag to tip out its contents.  A plain gold ring fell into his palm.  He turned it to the light, reading the inscription:  _All My Love Forever – Sirius_.  A faint whimper bled from Remus’ lips as he gently slid the ring onto the ring finger of his left hand. 

With all the force of a Stunning spell, memories assaulted Remus.

 

_\-----_

 

_“Remus, are you okay?  Please be okay!”_

_Remus groaned, not wanting to open his eyes to the bright sunlight.  “I’m fine, Sirius,” he said._

_“But you look terrible!” Sirius gasped._

_“This is what it’s always like.  I’m used to it.  I’m okay – I promise.”_

_“Can I stay with you?” Sirius’ hand sought out Remus’ under the blankets._

_“Please.”_

_\-----_

_“I can’t believe that you three did this for me,” Remus said, patting the top of the dog’s head._

_The dog shook, then transformed back into Sirius.  He threw his arm around Remus’ shoulders.  “You’re our friend.  We’d do anything for you.”_

_\-----_

 

_“Remus, I like boys.  I…I like you.”_

_Something inside Remus seemed to burst, setting a flood of warmth crashing through his body.  He could feel the silly grin spread across his face.  Sirius, looking relieved, gently lifted Remus’ chin and leaned in to press their lips together._

_At first, it was nothing more than a chaste brush of warm, slightly chapped lips.  But even that was more than Remus had ever dared to imagine.  Sirius’ scent, filling all of his senses.  His long, soft hair tickling the side of Remus’ face._

_Then Sirius became bolder, sweeping his tongue along Remus’ bottom lip.  Remus immediately opened his mouth to him and the kiss deepened.  Their tongues slid languidly against each other, both boys’ hands moving to clutch the other’s shoulders._

_\-----_

_“Oh, Sirius!”_

_Remus’ heart was beating so hard that he thought it was trying to escape from his chest.  His vision was blurred around the edges.  Was he dying?  If so, he was leaving this world happy._

_“Was that okay?  Did I do it right?” Sirius asked anxiously._

_Remus turned slowly toward him and grinned.  “Just give me a few minutes to recover and I’ll show you how right you were.”_

_\-----_

_They were on Remus’ bed, this time with the curtains open.  James and Peter had gone home for the Christmas holiday and their room was, for once, completely silent.  Sirius’ hand traced circles on Remus’ naked back, lulling him to sleep._

_“I can’t believe we just did that.”_

_“Mmm, neither can I.”  Remus’ voice was muffled by the pillow.  “I love you, Sirius.”_

_“So does this mean you’re going to put out all the time in our new flat?”_

_Remus slowly raised his head.  “Are you asking me to move in with you?”_

_“Of course I am.  I never want to be apart from you, Remus.  Never.”_

_\-----_

_“Happy Christmas, Remus.”_

_Sirius presented him with a small black box.  Remus opened it to find a plain gold ring.  He delicately plucked it from the box, tilting it to read the inscription:  All My Love Forever – Sirius._

_“I know we can’t actually get married, but we’re as good as.  I want to be with you forever.  Will you have me?”_

_Remus started to giggle, then began to laugh uncontrollably when Sirius’ face fell.  Sirius stood to leave, but Remus grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back.  “Open mine,” he gasped out, pulling a wrapped package from behind the couch._

_Sirius, frowning, pulled the bow from the small gift and ripped through the wrapping paper.  Inside was a small wooden box.  He looked up at Remus, who was still laughing, then opened the box.  Resting on a small square of velvet was a plain gold ring.  Sirius angled it toward the light and, sure enough, there was an inscription:  I am Forever Yours – Remus._

_“Remus, why are you laughing?”_

_Between giggles, he replied, “Sirius, I’ve been worrying about today for months.  I was going to ask you the same question!  I’m so glad you were first – it was much more romantic this way.”_

_“Well, I’ve always been the romantic one,” Sirius said as he leaned toward Remus to share the kiss that would seal their union._

_\-----_

Remus found himself curled in a ball on the spare bedroom floor, feeling as sore as he normally did the morning after the full moon.  Mercifully, someone had placed a pillow under his head, covered him with a blanket, and cleaned the blood from his face.  He lay perfectly still, unwilling to expose his body to further agony by moving. 

Memories of the previous evening came flooding back.  “Sirius,” he whimpered.  “How could you leave me?  How could you do this to me?”

Suddenly, Remus struggled to his feet, terrified.  Who had provided him with a pillow and blanket?  No one knew where he lived.  He’d purchased this flat on 29 October, 1981.  He’d told no one.  Even Dumbledore met with him in Diagon Alley or at Hogwarts. 

Wait.  He’d told one person.  There was one person who knew.  Only one living soul who would know where to find Remus Lupin. 

The ring on the table, the blanket and pillow – had _he_ been…?  No, Remus told himself firmly.  He must have woken up during the night and pulled a pillow and blanket from the bed. 

But his guest room had no bed – it was just storage space.  Was it likely that he made it to his own bed, only to strip it of blanket and pillow and return to the floor?  Possibly, he reasoned.  His distraught mind may have wanted to remain in that room to surround himself with memories.

Remus’ thoughts were extraordinarily confused as he staggered toward the kitchen to fix himself some tea.  The sound he fancied was his thoughts clinking together as they flew through his brain turned out to be a small delivery owl holding that morning’s _Prophet_ tapping on the window glass with his beak.  Remus automatically took the paper and tossed a piece of bread in the owl’s direction.  Deciding he was too exhausted to put forth the effort necessary for a cup of tea, he sat down heavily at the kitchen table and rested his head on his forearms, feeling worse than he had in years.

He must have fallen asleep, for the next time he opened his eyes it was late afternoon, judging by the long shadows filling the room.  He raised his head and was surprised to note that he felt much better than he had upon waking hours earlier. 

Standing to stretch, he noticed his abandoned copy of the _Prophet_ and pulled it closer to read the day’s headlines. 

**SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN**

As though his body couldn’t process another shock, Remus’ knees went weak and his eyes rolled back into his head.  Hope and despair warred with each other in the second before he fainted dead away. 

 

 


End file.
